Lift Me Back Up
by Shannon A. Bernstein
Summary: Feliciano and Ludwig's relationship may seem perfect to others. But they're not immune to arguments. Ludwig is on another business trip, and Feliciano feels neglected. When a horrible tragedy befalls one of their friends, it forces them to remember how lucky they are to have each other. Prequel to Remember The Music. M for smut. Oneshot.


**While this is obviously a GerIta fic, but there will be a little bit of PruAus in there as well. It's also a prequel to Remember The Music, the multi-chapter PruAus fic I've got going on right now. So if you like this and you like PruAus…you should go read it. *shameless self promotion* But it can certainly be read by itself too!**

**Warnings: smut and sadness.**

**I don't own Hetalia, but you already knew that.**

**Well, enjoy the fic :)**

* * *

"Luddy, I made you some dinn-"

"No time for that, Feli," Ludwig said firmly as he swept past Feliciano, rolling suitcase in tow behind him.

Feliciano sighed as the German scrambled to get ready. Two weeks. He faced two weeks alone, and he didn't really like the idea. He wanted to delay Ludwig's departure as much as possible. "But you have to eat something before you go, _mi amore!_" he said, giving Ludwig his most endearing smile. Ludwig had said it himself: he found it hard to resist Feliciano's smile. But from the stern, unmoving expression on the blonde's face, something told the Italian it wasn't working on him today. "It's just pasta," he added quickly. "It won't take you long to eat! I-"

"I have to meet my business partners in fifteen minutes," Ludwig said, huffing a little in frustration as he spun around and retreated back into the room he and Feliciano shared to retrieve something he had forgotten. "I'm running late as it is."

Bounding after Ludwig down the steps, Feliciano said, "Why do you have to go _tonight_? Your flight's not till tomorrow. Couldn't you just…" He grabbed Ludwig's muscled arm when the German stopped at the foot of the stairs, and stared up at him with pleading brown eyes, "…stay with me tonight?"

As Ludwig turned to look into Feliciano's eyes, his expression softened a bit. He peeled the Italian's hand away gently from his arm and held it, threading their fingers together. "We have to go over our agenda for the trip," he explained. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. _Und_ I'm sorry I have to go on another business trip so soon. But that's just the way it worked out. It's only two weeks, _ja_? You'll be fine, _meine schatz._"

Though he wasn't happy about it, Feliciano knew there was nothing more he could do. Now that Ludwig had gotten promoted at the corporation for which he worked, he had to go on business trips. Just three weeks ago, he had returned from a weeklong conference, and now he was traveling all the way to Japan to close an important deal with an international firm in Tokyo. "All right," he conceded. "Just…call me when you get to Tokyo so I know you're okay, _si_?"

Ludwig smiled warmly. "I promise. I should probably get going now." He took Feliciano's face in his hands and leaned forward, closing the distance between them until their lips met. Feliciano pressed back into the kiss and trailed his tongue lightly along the German's lower lip, asking for gentle permission. Ludwig obliged and opened his mouth. Their tongues touched, the contact light and soft. Feliciano loved these kinds of kisses – the sweet, slow, intimate ones. It was sad that today, it took Ludwig's impending departure to produce such a kiss. Rough kisses that led to boxers on the floor, moans and desperate pleas for _harder, faster,_ and culminating in the sweet haze of orgasm, were delightful. But there was simply nothing better than just being close to Ludwig without any stipulations. Just like this. Feliciano had to bite his lip to force back a sigh of disappointment after the German pulled away, breaking the kiss. But a smile soon found its way back to his face when Ludwig said, "_Ciao_, Feli. _Ti amo._" He loved it when Ludwig spoke Italian for him.

"_Ti amo_, Luddy!" Feliciano replied. The German turned and stepped out the front door. There was an audible _click_ as he shut the door behind him, and then the roar of the engine as Ludwig slipped a key into the ignition and turned it. Feliciano watched the man he loved as his car disappeared down the street. He stood rooted to the spot, gazing into nothingness, as he wondered what he'd do with the rest of his day. He'd returned from his job as a chef at around three in the afternoon, as he only worked the lunch shift on Sundays. Now he was bored and alone, and to make matters worse, he had this huge pile of pasta he couldn't hope to finish by himself. What could he do?

"I know, I'll call Roderich!" Feliciano thought aloud. Maybe Roderich and Gilbert would want to eat dinner with him. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and found the Austrian's number in his contacts. The phone rang, once, twice, three times. Feliciano almost held his breath, waiting for someone to pick up. Nothing.

After the fifth ring, the answering machine kicked in. "_Hey!"_ The recorded voice that greeted the Italian belonged not to Roderich, but to Gilbert. "_My awesome pianist can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message…"_

Roderich's voice in the background interrupted, "_Gilbert, you idiot, what do you think you're doing?" _

"_I'm changing your answering machine message 'cause I'm just that awesome! Relax, Princess! Anyway…if you leave a message, Roddy might get back to you eventually. This message has been brought to you by Roderich's favorite person in the whole world."_

"Um, _guten abend,_ Roderich, Gilbert. It's Feliciano," the Italian said into the phone, using one of the German greetings Ludwig had taught him. "So…Ludwig left on a business trip, and I'm bored, and I just wanted to know if you guys wanted to eat dinner with me or something. I guess you're probably busy right now, but maybe if you want to get together sometime later this week, just give me a call. Okay? Okay, bye." He hung up. Being that neither of them worked today, Feliciano guessed they were probably having sex. At six in the evening on a Sunday? Of course. The only time of day that was off-limits for those two was in the early morning, when Roderich was too lazy to get up. For Roderich, it was because the orchestra he performed with didn't rehearse until late morning.

Not knowing what else to do, Feliciano spooned some of the pesto-coated pasta from the pot on the stove onto a plate and settled down in front of the television to eat. Watching television while he ate was a habit he'd picked up from Gilbert. If Feliciano's traditional Italian parents knew their son ate meals somewhere other than at a table, they'd probably scold him. If Lovino knew, he'd probably say Feliciano had been "indoctrinated by the potato bastards." After a little while, he went back for a second helping of the pasta, but there was still plenty left. That would probably be lunch tomorrow as well.

After a few hours of television, Feliciano checked Facebook, where he watched the cat video his Greek friend Heracles had sent him and chatted with Lovino for a while before he crawled into bed. He pulled the covers tightly up around him and shivered a little. It was late February, and the air outside was frigid. At times like these, he liked to cuddle up to Ludwig, feeling the warmth from the German's body flow into his as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. But of course, this evening, the bed felt strangely empty. He hugged a pillow to his chest, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep as the cold air sent shudders through his slender body. But sleep did not come easily. He tossed and turned, restless, as a million thoughts ran through his head. Would Ludwig's flight arrive safely? Would he remember to call Feliciano? Would he take care of himself, or would he get overworked and skip meals or get greasy take-out, as he was prone to doing at times? Feliciano knew he probably didn't have to worry. Kiku Honda, the corporation's Japanese liaison, would be with Ludwig on the trip, and Kiku was a responsible and patient man. But there was still one worry that kept the Italian up at night: would Ludwig _forget about him_ as he lost himself in the glowing lights and novelty of Tokyo?

It seemed as though time stretched on endlessly before Feliciano finally fell asleep sometime around three in the morning. He slept until almost eleven, awakening only to the sound of his cell phone ringing. "Hello?" he mumbled sleepily when he picked it up.

"Feli, it's me." Ludwig's familiar voice.

Feliciano smiled. He had remembered after all. "Hi, Luddy."

"Did I wake you?" the German asked.

"Sort of, but it's okay," Feliciano said. "I'm just happy to hear from you."

"I just wanted to let you know my plane landed in Los Angeles," he explained. "We're changing planes and then our flight leaves for Tokyo. I'll call you when I get there."

Feliciano hummed a little, pleased that Ludwig had called him during his layover. "Okay, just be safe," he said.

"I love you, Feli."

"I love you, too."

Ludwig hung up. And when he did, Feliciano figured it was as good a time as any to rouse himself and get something to eat. It was so late that it was practically time for lunch, so he heated up his pasta from the previous evening. The house was so quiet, so still. Of course, it was just this quiet every day after Ludwig left in the morning for work. But there was something about the fact that the German wouldn't be coming home tonight that made the silence feel that much more empty.

Once he was done eating, Feliciano again didn't know quite what to do. Luckily, his phone rang again. His heart leapt in his chest with the momentary hope that it would be Ludwig again, calling to say he was bored in the airport and that he missed his Italian already. "Hello?" he said eagerly when he picked up.

"_Hallo_, Feliciano." Feliciano's heart dropped a little. It was Roderich, not Ludwig, on the other end of the line.

"Oh…hi," he replied quietly, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"I apologize that I missed your call yesterday," the Austrian said. "I was a little bit…busy at the time."

A loud and unmistakable voice cut in from the background. "Busy being dominated by the awesome me!" Feliciano couldn't help but giggle a little. He'd been correct.

"Gilbert!" Roderich barked. Feliciano could practically feel the Austrian blushing through the phone. "Want _me_ to dominate _you_ next time? Shut it! I'm on the phone!" A brief pause. "Sorry, Feli. I have a concert coming up on Wednesday, so I will be busy until then. But if you would like, the three of us can get dinner together in the evening after the concert."

Wednesday seemed like it was an eternity away, but even further away was Ludwig's return. "Okay, Roderich," Feliciano mumbled.

Soon, Roderich hung up the phone, as he had to get back to practicing. Feliciano dressed and readied himself for work. That night at the restaurant, he muddled through his every task, mind on Ludwig rather than the food he was making. His hands fumbled as he tried to arrange his dishes in the presentable manner the restaurant required. Somehow, everything turned out looking a little more sloppy than usual. He just didn't understand – the last time Ludwig had gone away on a business trip, Feliciano hadn't missed him this much until he'd been gone for several days. Perhaps it was because he felt that he'd just gotten his German back before he had to turn around and leave for yet another trip. At some point during the evening, Feliciano's phone rang. He stepped outside of the kitchen, having just finished preparing the osso bucco he had been working on, to answer his phone call. This time, it was Ludwig, calling to say he had landed in Tokyo after having spent almost the whole day in airports and on airplanes. When he slipped back inside the kitchen, the head chef scolded him for having taken a personal call in the middle of the dinner shift. Feliciano apologized and pleaded for forgiveness. He had just gotten this job a few months ago after having worked at a less sophisticated restaurant for years. He'd finally achieved his dream of working at a distinguished restaurant, and he wanted desperately to earn a good reputation here.

The next day was Tuesday. Feliciano was thankful that it would only be one more day until he could see Roderich and Gilbert. But for the moment, the loneliness he felt was nearly unbearable. After he ate lunch around noon and spent a few minutes staring aimlessly into the distance, he picked up the phone and hit speed dial 3 – Ludwig's number. From the way the phone rang four times, Feliciano was convinced that it would go to voicemail, just as his call to Roderich had two days ago. But then after the last ring, a gruff voice answered, "Feliciano, do you realize it's nearly one in the morning in Tokyo?"

The time difference! Feliciano had forgotten all about it in his desire to find even the briefest moment of comfort in Ludwig's voice. "Oh…I-I'm so sorry, Luddy," he mumbled guiltily. "I forgot."

"Well, what do you want?"

"I miss you already, _mi amore,_" Feliciano replied. "I want you to come home."

There was a sickening moment of silence before Ludwig said roughly, "Already? It has only been two _verdammt_ days! Can't I go on a simple business trip without you freaking out on me? _Mein Gott,_ Feliciano. Learn to take care of _yourself_."

Feliciano tried to choke back the whimper that rose to his lips. "But Ludwig…I…just…" he began, but he found that he didn't know what else to say. "Okay, bye. I'm sorry I woke you," he said abruptly before he hung up. For a moment, he remained motionless in his chair at the table, fingernails digging into the wood, before the tears that had glistened in his eyes rolled down his cheeks. He stood shakily and made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. Today, he stepped carefully onto each stair. Usually, he skipped and leapt up the stairs, sometimes two at a time, which never failed to make Ludwig chuckle amusedly at his joyful energy. But now he couldn't summon the energy or the willpower for that.

After flopping down carelessly onto the bed, Feliciano curled up into a little ball and again pulled his pillow into his arms as sobs started to shake his slender body. Why was Ludwig acting this way? They'd been together for nearly a year, and sure, they'd had a few misunderstandings in the past. But the German had never before been so abrupt and coarse with him. He just didn't understand it. Was it somehow his fault? "Maybe…maybe it's just because I woke him up in the middle of the night," Feliciano thought aloud in a quivering voice. "_Si_, that must be it," he reassured himself. But that still didn't make him stop feeling neglected. Couldn't Ludwig have said no to that business trip? Didn't he care? It was the first time Feliciano had ever doubted the relationship he and Ludwig shared, and those doubts scared him. But who else could he call? Roderich, Lovino, Gilbert, and Antonio were all at work. Feliciano felt so alone. He pressed his face into his pillow and cried some more.

When he used up all his tears, he decided he needed something to distract him until he had to go to work in three hours. Now would be a perfect time to finally get started on that piece of pottery he'd had fired at the kiln last week after he'd shaped it. It needed a coat of paint. Cooking had always been Feliciano's first love. For as long as he could remember, he'd followed his mother into the kitchen and watched her as she prepared dinner for the family. She'd been so proud the day Feliciano had cooked dinner all by himself. He'd been only nine years old. But he'd always loved art, as well. It was so relaxing, and it always succeeded in taking his mind off things.

Feliciano took out his set of paints and lifted the unfinished pot from its place on the shelf. He examined the clay sculpture. It looked perfect. He hummed, pleased with his work. But then…his eyes caught on a little crack on the side of the pot. It was just a little flaw. Most people wouldn't even notice it if they happened to examine the pot. They would most likely compliment Feliciano on his beautiful pottery without catching the small mistake. The crack was most likely not even his fault – it had probably happened while it was in the kiln – but he couldn't help but wonder how he could improve his work next time. He thought about how, at the moment, the pot resembled his relationship with Ludwig. To the outside observer, it looked flawless. And for the most part, it was. But the few tiny cracks it had ruined the possibility, the elusive dream of perfection he had been chasing. And Feliciano blamed himself for the flaws in his relationship, just as much as he blamed himself for the flaws in his pottery.

* * *

Wednesday evening could not have come soon enough. Feliciano took the evening off so that he could meet Gilbert to hear Roderich's philharmonic orchestra perform. He was looking forward to eating dinner with the two afterwards. He glanced anxiously at the clock. 5:46 p.m. on February 21. Roderich had surely left home already in order to warm up and tune with the orchestra. He and Gilbert wouldn't leave their respective houses for another fifteen minutes. Feliciano was perched eagerly on the couch, too distracted to even watch television. He twiddled his thumbs and glanced back at the clock. 5:49 p.m. Well, he could leave now, couldn't he? What if traffic was bad? He didn't want to be late to Roderich's concert!

Feliciano got into his car and drove onto the highway. To break the silence, he turned on the radio. He caught the end of a news report, and then the traffic update came on. "Downtown looks clear," said the announcer. Feliciano smiled. He was headed downtown. That was good news. "But we have an accident on Route 30 eastbound headed into the city. Three cars involved. One car is on its roof. All lanes are blocked. Traffic is not moving."

"Really?" Feliciano thought aloud in frustration. _He_ was planning on taking Route 30! But that didn't matter. He could take the business route instead. It would take longer, but he had time. He was thankful he'd left ten minutes early. Smiling, he changed course and drove toward the big auditorium.

When he arrived, just in the nick of time due to traffic, he was surprised to find that Gilbert had not arrived before him. The silver-haired German was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had gotten caught up in the mess on Route 30. "Get here soon, Gil!" he said brightly as he leaned against the wall to wait for Gilbert. The concert was supposed to start at 7:00. It was 6:51.

7:00 came and there was still no sign of Gilbert. Everyone went inside the auditorium and filed into their seats. The orchestra was still tuning, so they still had a few minutes. Those few minutes slipped away. Still no Gilbert. Just as Feliciano took his phone out of his pocket to give the German a call, he heard his ringtone. "Hello?" he said.

"F-Feliciano, it's G-G-Gilbert," an uncharacteristically shaky voice replied.

"Gilbert! Why aren't you here yet? You sound nervous. Are you okay?" Feliciano said anxiously.

"I…I…_Mein Gott._ Feliciano, I'm at the hospital. Roderich…he…he was in a-a car accident."

Feliciano almost dropped the phone as Gilbert's words invaded his ears. His mind went blank. All he could think to stammer out was, "W-what?"

Gilbert sounded completely panicked when he said, "I don't know how it happened, b-but they told me his car was on its roof. They don't know if he's gonna make it. I'm scared, Feli."

"_Dio Mio,_ Gil," Feliciano breathed. The accident on Route 30. That had been Roderich. Gilbert had admitted to being afraid – that in and of itself was enough to tell him that this was serious. "You know what? I'm coming. I'm coming. You shouldn't have to be alone right now. I'll be there soon."

"Thank you," Gilbert said. "Oh, and…drive safe, Feliciano."

Though Feliciano was worried for Roderich, he felt a sense of duty as he climbed into his car. He _had_ to be there for Gilbert. He cared about his boyfriend's older brother. His boyfriend. _Ludwig._ The name crossed his mind as he drove back out onto the road. But he pushed all thoughts of the younger German from his mind, training his eyes and mind on the road before him.

When he jogged into the hospital's waiting room, Gilbert was easy to spot. Pale hair, paler-still skin, and fire-red eyes that were currently glazed over in complete and utter shock. He gripped the arms of the chair in which he sat with such force that it looked like it hurt. His knuckles were white – whiter than usual, if that was even possible. And Feliciano could tell from the subtle, almost imperceptible movements of Gilbert's jaw that he was grinding his teeth. "Oh, Gilbert!" the Italian cried as he sprinted to the German's side. He sank into the adjacent seat, reached over the arms of the chair, and pulled Gilbert into a tight hug. At first, Gilbert did not return the embrace. He was trembling all over. "Gil, you're shaking," Feliciano whispered.

"Feli, what if I lose him?" Gilbert said. "What if I lose my Roderich? I just…I don't know what I'd do. Oh, God, Feli, I shouldn't have argued with him this morning. What if those are the last words I ever got to say to him?" At last, the German hugged Feliciano back, although his embrace was weak. Neither of them let go for a long time.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Feliciano said, trying to comfort Gilbert. But he wasn't so sure himself. He tried to recall the details of what that traffic report had said. Three-car accident. One car on its roof. All lanes blocked. Though he wasn't sure exactly what happened, it certainly didn't sound promising for Roderich. "It's okay, Gilbert, it's okay," Feliciano found himself murmuring over and over again as he ran a hand along the German's back.

After some time had passed, Feliciano sat silently beside Gilbert, who stared blankly into nothingness, fingers twitching and jerking atop the arms of his chair. At one point, the Italian heard the other man's breaths come in ragged gasps as Gilbert started hyperventilating. "Gilbert! Gilbert, are you okay? Do you need me to get anything?" Feliciano said. The German did not respond. So the Italian simply laid a hand on one of those pale arms and patted it gently before letting it rest there. But then it occurred to him that Ludwig, who was still in Tokyo, had no idea what was going on. He took out his phone for what seemed like the billionth time within the past few days and called the younger German brother.

"Feli?" Ludwig said when he picked up the phone. "I'm about to go into a meeting, but I've got a minute. Listen, I'm so sorry I shouted at you the other day. I-"

"No time for that!" Feliciano interrupted. "Roderich was in a car accident."

"He _what?"_

"_Si._ It sounds really bad. Gilbert and I are at the hospital. And Gilbert…I don't know what's wrong with him. He's freaking out, Luddy."

Feliciano could hear Ludwig sigh heavily through the phone. "_Scheisse…Mein Gott._ You know what? You tell Gilbert I'll be on the next plane home. Fuck the meeting. Kiku can close this deal without me. I need to be there for my brother."

Nodding, Feliciano bid Ludwig farewell. He then turned to Gilbert, who seemed to be pretty much unresponsive. He took the older brother's shoulders and shook them. "Gilbert! Hey! Look at me," he said. Slowly, those crimson eyes focused upon Feliciano's face. "Ludwig's coming home. He's coming to be with you."

Gilbert nodded and mumbled a barely coherent reply. A few minutes later, a kind-faced nurse with long brown hair and bright green eyes came into the waiting room. She told Gilbert that they needed to keep Roderich overnight. She added that they would do everything they could, but that they were not sure whether or not Roderich would pull through. She suggested that they go home – they could come back tomorrow during visiting hours. At that point, Feliciano grabbed Gilbert's arm and tugged him toward his car. He drove the German back to the home Ludwig and Feliciano shared and showed him to the guest bedroom. The way Gilbert just crumpled into the sheets without bothering to undress, looking shaken and unbelievably defeated, tore at the Italian's heart. He retreated to his own room and again found that sleep would not come easily.

* * *

For much of the next morning, Gilbert paced anxiously around the house until Feliciano pleaded for him to sit down and gave him a cup of hot tea. Roderich had been the one who'd introduced Feliciano to drinking hot tea. _Roderich, please be okay,_ the Italian thought. _For me. For Gilbert._

In the early afternoon, Feliciano prepared to drive himself and Gilbert back to the hospital when he got a phone call from Ludwig saying that he was at the airport and would meet them at the hospital in around half an hour. The Italian mouthed silent prayers during the entire drive there, while Gilbert sat beside him, chewing his lip and drumming his fingers on the armrest. Apparently, the tea had done little to calm his nerves. But that was understandable. He was being faced with the possibility that his husband might die. However, the hospital hadn't called Gilbert, so that _had_ to be a good sign, right?

Miraculously, Ludwig arrived before Feliciano and Gilbert. "_M-Mein bruder,_" Gilbert choked out weakly. Ludwig's eyes moved between Gilbert and Feliciano before he took off running toward the silver-haired man. The two brothers flung their arms around each other. Gilbert started to shiver in Ludwig's embrace, and whimpered softly a few times with his face pressed into the blonde's shoulder. Feliciano watched them, feeling a little left out. He was in love with Ludwig and had missed him terribly, but Ludwig had hugged Gilbert first. Instantly, he scolded himself for having those thoughts. He felt unbearably guilty. Of course the German had run to his brother first – as he well should have. _I'm an awful person,_ Feliciano thought. _I can't believe how selfish I am right now._

When Ludwig finally pulled away from Gilbert, he turned to Feliciano and wrapped his arms around the Italian. Feliciano let a shaky sigh of relief tumble from his lips. "Luddy, I missed you," he said quietly.

"I missed you too, Feli," Ludwig replied.

"You can go in and see him now," a voice interrupted. It was that nurse from yesterday. Her nametag read _Elizaveta_. Gilbert's body tensed in anticipation. He practically lunged forward. "But I have to warn you, Gilbert, he's…"

"We'll talk later!" Gilbert snapped. "I need to see my Roderich _now!_" He pushed past Elizaveta and bolted down the hallway. Ludwig and Feliciano scrambled after him, struggling to keep up with hurried strides that were more like leaps than steps. Gilbert ducked inside a room and dropped to his knees beside the bed. "Roddy, baby, it's me. It's Gilbert," he said. The man in the bed did not stir. "Roderich," he repeated, a little more firmly. "Roderich! Roderich! Wake up! I need to talk to you! Why won't you fucking wake up?" His words had turned into screams. He grabbed Roderich's shoulders and shook them forcefully several times. The body in his grip flopped around limply, even though the heart monitor beeped regularly in the background.

Elizaveta appeared at Gilbert's side and tried to drag him away, but Gilbert simply would not let go of the Austrian. Ludwig ran to his brother and tugged him backwards away from Roderich, whose body sank back against the mattress like a little rag doll. "I tried to tell you," Elizaveta said sympathetically. "He…he won't wake up. We believe he's in a coma. I'm so sorry."

"_What?_" Gilbert said at a tremulous whisper. Elizaveta only nodded. Without another word, Gilbert backed slowly into the wall. When his body slammed into it, he slid down into a sitting position and hugged his knees to his chest as his eyes widened, horror-filled. Ludwig started to make his way toward Gilbert, but as he did, Feliciano could no longer hold back the flood of emotions that ripped through him. He fell to his knees and burst into tears. How…how could this be happening to Roderich? The Austrian and the Italian had known each other since they were young. When he was eight, the Edelstein family had moved in next door to the Vargas family. Roderich, thirteen at the time, had somehow gotten charged with the task of essentially babysitting Feliciano during his parents' frequent business trips. Lovino, on the other hand, simply stayed at his older friend Antonio's house. The boy who had once kept him in line was now the man who was lying in a coma on the hospital bed. Feliciano couldn't handle that. He bent forward and sobbed so hard he could barely breathe.

Ludwig halted in his tracks and looked helplessly back and forth between his brother and his boyfriend, who were both falling apart right before his eyes. "Gil…Feli…" he said, shrugged, and sighed. He took the few remaining steps that separated him from Gilbert, bent down, and patted his brother on the shoulder a few times before walking to Feliciano and pulling the sobbing Italian into his arms.

At first, Feliciano was simply grateful that Ludwig was holding him. But then, something unexplainable snapped inside of him. "You'd come home for Gilbert, but not for me?" he shouted, though his voice cracked toward the end of his sentence. "Why? Why? I missed you! I needed you! Aren't I…" Feliciano found that he didn't have the heart to finish that thought. How stupid could he possibly be? How could he let this go from being about Roderich to being about his own insecurity – and when Gilbert was clearly suffering? "I'm s-so sorry, Luddy," he mumbled. "I'm sorry I'm such a selfish…such a selfish idiot. Gilbert needs you more than I do right now. I'm just…sorry."

"Don't be," Ludwig murmured as he stroked Feliciano's hair. "I should have listened to you more. I should have thought about how you were feeling. I'm the one who should be sorry, _meine liebe._" He leaned in and kissed the Italian so gently it seemed as though their lips barely touched. When he broke the kiss, he turned toward Gilbert. "Oh, _mein bruder,_ I'm so sorry. I'm coming back over there. Feli, come on."

"Group hug?" Feliciano suggested with a sad smile. Ludwig nodded solemnly.

"It…it's okay, guys," Gilbert said. "I think I just need some air, or else I might pass out."

"We should all probably go home now anyway," Ludwig said. He and Feliciano helped Gilbert to his feet, each of them holding one of his arms. True to Gilbert's words, he staggered and nearly fell forward as he stood, even with the support of both men at his sides.

"We'll do everything we can for Roderich," Elizaveta affirmed as the three departed. "He can pull out of this, okay?"

Gilbert nodded robotically while Ludwig mumbled a word of thanks. They made their way into the parking lot. Ludwig drove the three of them back to his home without speaking a single word, leaving no room for discussion as to whether or not Gilbert would stay with them tonight. When they arrived, it occurred to Feliciano that Roderich had never gotten to perform his big piano concerto – the two cars that had slammed into his had taken that chance away from him, just an hour before his orchestra was supposed to go onstage. "I'm making dinner," Feliciano said quietly. "Gilbert, are you okay with having-"

"Feliciano, I hate to do this to you because your food is so good, but I think I just need to lie down," Gilbert said. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right," the Italian replied. "I understand." Gilbert offered a little wave as he turned and made his way up the stairs. "Are you hungry, Ludwig? It's okay if you're not."

"_Ja,_ I am," Ludwig said. "I haven't eaten since this morning. I try to stay away from airline food."

Without another word, Feliciano moved through the kitchen, gathering the ingredients necessary to make a basic pasta dish. He had planned to make a big, fancy dinner for Ludwig when he came back from Tokyo – slow-cooked duck in a rich sauce over organic sage pasta and, of course, topped with fresh Italian cheese. But after all that had happened over the past few days, he didn't have the energy to make such a meal, and he guessed that neither of them would have the stomach for it. It took Feliciano a mere thirty minutes to prepare dinner and set plates full of pasta on the table. Both started to eat slowly, engulfed in total silence. Then, Ludwig looked up from his food, reached across the table, and touched Feliciano's free hand lightly. "_Meine liebe,_ would you like to talk now? I promise I'll listen to you this time," he said.

"I don't know why I'm acting this way," Feliciano said. "I just…" Then, something clicked in his mind, as if he had just found the last puzzle piece needed to complete the picture. "I think it's that my parents used to go on a lot of business trips when I was little," he continued. "So I guess I felt like I was alone a lot. Now that you're going on trips, too, I guess I…I just didn't want it to be like that again. Especially not when I love you so much."

Ludwig ran his thumb over the back of Feliciano's hand. "Oh, Feli, I had no idea that's why you…I should have realized. I don't think I know the right words to tell you how sorry I am. I'm supposed to protect you from getting hurt. I'm not supposed to be the one who hurts you. Can you forgive me?" He glanced at the Italian with furrowed brows and wide, apologetic blue eyes. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen Ludwig look uncertain or hesitant.

"Of course I can," Feliciano said without even a moment's hesitation. "Always."

"I love you, Feliciano."

"I love you too, Ludwig." They kissed as though they had been pulled together by some magnetic force they were both powerless to resist. Ludwig placed a hand on Feliciano's thigh underneath the table and slid it upward until it rested over the Italian's cock. The German started stroking slowly, lightly, carefully, in a way that was reminiscent of the first time they'd slept together. Back then, it was as if Ludwig had been afraid to hurt him. Now, that touch was full of sweetness rather than reluctance. Feliciano felt himself start to get hard in response to that hand. They both stood in unison, as though they could read each other's minds, and made their way upstairs, leaving the scant remainder of their pasta untouched on their plates for them to clean up later.

When they had reached their bedroom, Feliciano sat down at the edge of the bed and lowered his body slowly onto the mattress. Ludwig placed one knee on either side of the Italian's narrow hips and leaned down over him, closing the distance between them until their lips met again, just as softly as before. The German's palm settled where it had before atop Feliciano's growing erection and resumed its gentle caressing motion. Feliciano reached up and did the same for Ludwig. Their lips barely broke contact as they traced friction-creating circles through each other's pants, using just enough pressure to build desire between them. Ludwig's fingers curled around the fabric at the corner of Feliciano's shirt and lifted it over his head before removing his own shirt. The German's fingers ran along the newly exposed skin on Feliciano's chest – so light, so slow, so unhurried, so loving. Then, his lips moved down its length with just as much care.

Strong fingers unbuttoned and unzipped Feliciano's jeans. The Italian lifted his hips and wiggled out of them, pushing them off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Ludwig removed his khakis and then looked into brown eyes with his pale blue ones for a long moment that seemed to be frozen in time before they both stripped themselves of the last inches of fabric still clinging to their bodies. Feliciano flattened his palm against the mattress and used it to push himself up halfway. He laid the other hand on Ludwig's thigh before he bent over the German's knees and kissed the tip of his erection in a way that echoed the other man's patient and deliberate motions. After a few long moments, he heard the pace of Ludwig's breaths quicken as a few muffled grunts fell from his lips. He stopped kissing and moved to licking, running his tongue repeatedly up and down the length of the German's cock. He felt the grip of fingers winding through his hair. But instead of settling there, Ludwig's hand slid down onto his cheek and came to rest on his shoulder.

"Feli," Ludwig breathed, his whisper barely audible. Feliciano tilted brown eyes up at Ludwig. He didn't have to ask to know what the German wanted. He didn't know how he knew, but he just did. He pulled his mouth away and lay back down. Ludwig reached for a tube of lubricant that rested atop the dresser next to the bed, as if it were always waiting to be used. He squeezed some onto his hands, rubbed it on, and set the tube back down. Feliciano felt the lubricant's chill as a pair of slickened hands slid beneath his hips and lifted them up off the mattress. The Italian wrapped a leg around Ludwig's waist and was about to do the same with the other before he felt that leg being pulled up over the German's shoulder. He glanced expectantly into Ludwig's beautifully intense eyes before he felt a thick cock slowly penetrating him.

Feliciano let a low, soft moan fall from his lips. Ludwig pulled out and thrust back in – no, "thrust" was a word whose connotations were much too rough for this moment. Every slow, sweet motion seemed to hold both an apology and a promise. As his body started to rock back in forth in time with Ludwig's motions on top of him, Feliciano fought back the urge to allow his eyelids to slide shut. He did not want to miss a moment of the loving gaze with which the German regarded him. Such an uncharacteristic softness filled those ice blue eyes. Ludwig bent down in a motion that pushed the Italian's heel further up over his shoulder. He kissed Feliciano yet again, and their tongues glided across each other.

Ludwig's hand found Feliciano's erection and curled around it. His thumb moved in the same circular motions he'd used when stroking the back of the Italian's hand at the dinner table. Feliciano sighed and moaned again. The measured pace of the German's thrusts increased gradually as both men's breaths came in shorter and heavier. The room felt unbearably hot. The chill of the February evening had been banished and forgotten, even as snow started to swirl in the wind outside. Ludwig stroked Feliciano faster until he came, calling his lover's name. Ludwig wasn't far behind. He grabbed onto the pair of narrow hips beneath him and used them to push in and out faster until he followed the Italian into climax.

As soon as Ludwig pulled out and flopped onto the mattress next to Feliciano, frigid air crept back into the room, as if nature was not content to allow them to forget that it was winter. Feliciano shivered and scooted in close next to Ludwig, who pulled the covers up over both of them and then draped an arm around the smaller body. He sighed happily, feeling complete again. "Luddy…" Feliciano began somewhat unsteadily, in a voice that was heavy with sleep, "Gilbert said he and Roderich were arguing the morning before…the accident. I'll never forget what he said to me. He said, 'What if those are the last words I ever got to say to him?' I don't want that to _ever_ be us."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Ludwig said. "It won't be. I promise." _Sweetheart?_ Feliciano echoed in his mind. That was a term of endearment the German reserved for only the most special and intimate of moments. Usually, he simply preferred _meine schatz_ or _meine liebe_. "No couple is perfect," he continued. "We might argue sometimes, just like anyone else. But what I promise you is that we'll always make up. We'll always be okay again. All right?"

"All right," Feliciano replied. Though he was still worried about Roderich and Gilbert, he was able to find a measure of peace in Ludwig that he had not felt since the German had gone on his first business trip of the year. No more words passed between them as they both started to drift off into sleep. Not even _I love you._ But at this point, it was almost as unnecessary as saying that the sky is blue. All that was necessary was the way they'd created warmth for each other, even in the middle of a freezing winter.

* * *

**In case you were wondering. Verdammt = damned/fucking. **

**Oh, and by the way, the title comes from the song Gravity by A Perfect Circle. It is like the perfect song for this oneshot, especially the end of it. I mean, come on, these lyrics:**

_**I fell again**_

_**Like a baby unable to stand on my own**_

_**Tail in hand**_

_**Dizzy and clearly unable to just let this go**_

_**High and surrendering to gravity and the unknown**_

_**Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun**_

_**I choose to live**_

**As always, thanks for reading, and reviews are love :)**


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